Heartache & Heartbreak
by medicalfanatic
Summary: 'Any lingering doubts had been quashed by Serena's reaction - Bernie had to go to Afghanistan as soon as possible, and the blonde reckoned the sooner she left, the better for Serena.' - When Bernie is called back to active duty, Serena is left to pick up the pieces. (Berena, F/F endgame) (Any reviews are greatly appreciated!)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: See at bottom of chapter.**

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"Bernie Wolfe speaking." Answering her mobile, Bernie leant against the sharp edge of her desk. It was strange for her to receive such a late phone call - the clock on the office wall had just turned 1am. As of yet, her night shift had been extremely uneventful; apart from some routine ward rounds and conversations with Agency nurses, Bernie had been dutifully filling in over-due paperwork all night. Just before Serena had left, Bernie had begun surgery on a haemophiliac patient with internal bleeding as the result from a large fall from a ladder, but that was a long time ago and ever since Bernie hadn't done anything nearly as exciting. Had Serena been there, Bernie knew her night would've been much more enjoyable. She was looking forward to the coming morning when she was due to see Serena - until then, she turned her attention back to the phone pressed to her ear.  
"Oh hello Commander. It's nice to hear your voice after so long. I take it this isn't a social call?" An edge of caution in her tone, Bernie's mind began to race. Her commander hadn't rung in a very long time; the last time they'd spoken, it was to speak about the recent death of one of Bernie's former colleagues. Eyebrows still raised in suppose and unsure expectation, Bernie continued to carefully listen to her superior officer on the other end of the phone. Characteristic crackles interrupted her voice, telling of the huge distance between Wyvern and Afghanistan.  
"Really? I'm not sure-"  
"Yes, I would be able to do that. Okay. I'll have to think about it though. Obviously I cannot promise anything."  
"Three days? You expect me to decide my future in three days?" Bernie spluttered incredulously; as always, time was of the essence in army life. The speed in which every action was done in the army was one of the various things she didn't miss about life on the front line - at least in the NHS you (mostly) had the chance to catch your breath and assess a situation before proceeding. Whereas in the army, everything was constantly at 100mph, through necessity if nothing else.  
"Okay. I'll call you back on Thursday with my decision."  
"I'm sure. Goodnight Commander."

A small gasp escaped the blonde's parted lips; her body caved into the nearby office chair just as her shaking legs threatened to collapse below her. Cogs spun in her mind as she began to rake back through her previous phone call. Commander Jones had called with a very clear purpose - to recruit the former army medic back into active service and have her implement the Trauma Unit into a small field hospital located 5 miles from Camp Bastion. Whilst Bernie had returned to the UK after having sustained injuries from an IED explosion, her comrades were still due to serve a minimum of two more years under the baking Afghan sun. Jones had said it would only be for a maximum of a year and that the forces out in Afghanistan were desperate for a pair of skilful, trained and reliable hands to put to work amongst the hundreds of army and civilian casualties, and the trauma unit would be very useful although it would need an experienced leader at the helm - and this was to be Bernie. As always, it was no secret that the army were running short on professional, full-time medics; the casualties of war far outweighed the amount of medical care available and the difference was becoming increasingly pronounced by the day, as more and more wounded patients flooded the hospital doors. If even a fifth of these casualties were treated in somewhere like a designated Trauma Unit, it would considerably lighten the load for the medics and consequently improve the mortality rates.

Still shaking with the shock of this sudden opportunity, Bernie closed her eyes and began to properly think about what she ought to do. Ever since she'd first flown out to Afghanistan on her first tour, she had fallen in love with being an army medic. She loved the euphoria that came with finding success in trying a new surgical method, or saving someone who would've otherwise never had any access to medical care. Or the amazing feeling of seeing a once wounded soldier return to active service; Bernie knew better than anyone the destruction that war inevitably brings, but as a consequence she also knew of the extra-ordinary human resilience and strength to be found in the face of death. To have another year in active service felt like a gift; the army medic felt a certain debt and owing to the soldiers and civilians who needed her help. Although she'd served for more than a decade, Bernie still felt that she could and should do more. Some would say she had a 'hero complex', or others may say she just wanted to help. But, whatever the true reason, Bernie desperately wanted to call back her Commander and agree to fly out tomorrow. The thought of being able to help people in pain and, unlike in the NHS, had a currently very slim chance of ever having a doctor's expertise at their disposal, made Bernie's heart play oaky ache. Furthermore, even imagining the medical staff in the midst of the medical shortage made Bernie grimace; during her long tenure, she had grown very close with many of the soldiers and medics alike and to leave them in the lurch felt like treason. Deep down, the blonde knew that her Commander never would've called her, practically begged her, to return to active duty if she wasn't completely desperate.

On the other hand, Bernie knew that deep down she wanted to stay. Having experienced far too may close touches with death whilst on the front line, Bernie welcomed the relative safety and comfort brought by the NHS. Holby had become increasingly like home to the blonde; she loved coming into work every day and the knowledge that she wasn't at risk of undetonated IEDS or sudden missionary attacks provided a huge sense of relief. Unlike in the army, her life as an NHS surgeon had so far provided not only opportunities to improve, but to better the environment around her. In Holby Bernie felt like she'd made noticeable improvements that she never would've had the time nor resources to do during active service. Having more time to talk to patients and understand their mentality, having better and far more reliable equipment, getting the chance to use state of the art surgical technology and the comforting knowledge of her implemented changes - just the few of many benefits that came with working at Holby. Not to mention the friends she'd made. Raf, Morven, Fletch and (dare she say it) Henrik had all become close friends of hers and she revelled in enjoying a drink and chat with her lovely colleagues in Albie's at the end of the day. And Serena. Of course Serena. The brunette, petite doctor of whom Bernie had formed such a close, strong bond with. Losing Serena would be by far the biggest and most painful consequence of returning to the army; Bernie could barely contain her sadness when Serena wasn't on the same shift as her - she dreaded to think how she'd react if she were never to see Serena again. If she were never to see the adorable way she smiled with her eyes, hear her tinkling, light laugh or smell Serena's sweet, cinnamon scent linger in their office then the medic felt like she may just die. _Oh for God's sake woman. Stop being so bloody dramatic. Of course I won't die. Right?_

* * *

"Serena." Bernie greeted the arriving brunette as she hung up her coat. Unlike Bernie, Serena had just started her shift, looking as radiant and fresh-faced as ever.  
"Hello Bernie, how did surgery go?" Serena asked, smiling as she sat down in her chair opposite Bernie and warily eyeing the piles of paperwork the army medic had yet to complete. Nodding her head, Bernie tried to remember back to in the operating theatre; although it was less than seven hours ago, the night had been very long (and it felt like a lifetime since she'd received the phone call).  
"Fine thank you." Surprised by Bernie's abrupt answer, Serena looked up with confusion lining her brow. As she looked up, she was met by a disparaging and sad gaze. Judging by the blazing fire in the hazel of Bernie's eyes, the woman was in complete turmoil.  
"What's wrong? Was there a problem in theatre? One of the nurses told me he was a haemophiliac-"  
"Surgery went well." Bernie clenched her fists - this was going to be harder than she thought. Met by Serena's questioning gaze, she took a sharp breath in and quickly turned to face her properly. It was now or never. "My commander called me last night. She asked me if..." Bernie hesitated; she knew there was no way around telling Serena, but that didn't make it any easier a topic to breach. "If I would return to active service."  
"And? What did you say? You told her no, right?" Serena breathed, her voice so quiet the whisper barely passed her lips. _Please, please say no. Please don't leave Holby. Please don't leave me.  
_ "I d-don't know. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I first received the call. Of course I want to stay working here-"  
"So stay. Bernie I cannot see any reason why you ought to go back out there. You've served ten years of your life - that's far more than most."  
"I know. But I feel like I'm needed in Afghanistan. The medics are stretched so thin out there; if I could implement a Trauma Unit, it would make huge improvements throughout the whole area. I could help so many more people out there."  
"But you can help people here Bern! People...like the patients need you here! And the trauma unit has just got off the ground; it still needs your expertise if it's to work." _Emotional blackmail - is this really how badly I want her to stay?_ Serena winced upon hearing the desperate, begging tone in her voice; there seemed to be no telling Bernie. Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the determined decision set in Bernie's hazel eyes, Serena continued. "We still need you at Holby. I still need you." Upon hearing the deep, indignant emotion in Serena's wavering voice, Bernie's heart fell. Seeing the pain and anguish in her beautiful, hazel eyes, Bernie wondered how she could ever be so cruel. Even though it wasn't her fault, Bernie still felt incredibly horrible and selfish for putting the brunette through any sadness. She reached instinctively for Serena's small, shaking hands and cupped them in her own, immediately sharing her warmth.  
"I know. And I want to stay at Holby, with you, so much." Serena could sense a 'but' - she braced herself for the blow. "But I can't stay. I have to be in Afghanistan; these people are my family and they need me more than ever. Please understand."

In an instant, Serena quickly snatched her hands from Bernie's grasp. A sudden rage flooded Serena's veins as her heart raced faster than a F1 car, thumping against her rib cage. Blood rushed past her ears, introducing a deafening roar and blocking out any outside noises. She could see Bernie's mouth moving and her hands desperately reaching out for her own, but Serena couldn't make out the words. Bernie was leaving. Serena was drowning, underwater with no way to resurface. Her vision turned blurry; she couldn't hear Bernie's pleads for her to understand. Numbly feeling for her chair, Serena sat down, legs weak under her suddenly heavy weight. With a pained, tortured expression laden on her face, Bernie kept trying to beg Serena to understand. But the brunette wasn't even listening. Her gaze was fixed on a pencil sitting innocently on her desk, her mind refusing to comprehend what had happened.

"Serena. Please. You have to understand. I'll be back. It's only a year. Please." Bernie murmured, her voice becoming weaker with every word. All her strength and decisiveness crumbled around her, threatening to bury her alive. Seeing the pain and complete disbelief in Serena's eyes made her feel sick to her stomach and she felt forced to reconsider her motives. Although her head told her to leave for Afghanistan, her heart begged her to stay at Holby. But Bernie knew what she had to do. As always, she refused to give in to emotions, instead preferring to rely on logic and common sense. And logic was telling her that she was most needed in Afghanistan. "Serena." Bernie deftly reached for the unresponsive brunette's arm, desperate to see some signs of life and understanding. But, as soon as Bernie's fingers touched her pale wrist, Serena's rage flooded out.  
"Don't you bloody dare touch me. I cannot believe you're doing this do us. To me. Only a year? All we've been through together, and this is how you treat me? This is what I deserve?" Serena was now standing up, her hands balled up in tight fists. Anger rushed through her system, clouding her thoughts and impeding her vision. She felt so foolish - the brunette had wondered, even hoped, for something more than friendship with Bernie, only to see it all fall down in front of her face. Serena felt a cocktail of shame and fury swim in her mind; a flush of humiliation creeped up her neck. Bernie's almost impassive, expectant facial expression only fuelled Serena's anger; it was as if she was taking all her anger and fury in her stride. As if she had expected, by not cared, about the impacts of breaking Serena's heart. _How could I be such an idiot?_ Unable to think rationally, words came tumbling out Serena's mouth before she could stop them. "If you want to go so much, just leave. Get out. I never want to see your face again."

Bernie's jaw dropped open, her eyes brows raised ever-so-slightly in shock. Before Serena could even blink, Bernie was gone.

Power in every stride, Bernie found herself almost running down the corridor. She needed to get out. Heavy, dense air pressed down on her lungs, suffocating her. Now breaking out into a full run, the army medic was focused on one goal - getting out of the hospital. Oblivious to almost knocking over both Guy Self and Henrik Hanssen, Bernie kept running, her speed increasing with every step.

Finally she was outside. Cold, night air blasted her face, blowing back her blonde curls and raising goose bumps along her pale skin. Sitting on a bench in the Peace Garden, Bernie tried desperately to catch her breath. Emotions swelled up in her chest; as ever, Bernie felt an urgent need to keep her feelings under control and keep a calm facade on her face. After all, you can take the army woman out of the army, but you can't take the army out of an army woman. Bernie felt traitorous as she resigned herself to her overwhelming sadness; all her life, a stoic and unwavering character had been expected of her - accepting the storm of emotions brewing in her chest, which were no less over Serena, felt both strangely liberating and dangerous. Her cheeks were coloured with exertion and the warm blush contrasted to her porcelain, cold skin. Still breathless, the army medic felt frozen tears roll down her cheeks, dipping in the valleys of her mouth before falling on to the hard concrete below like the first raindrops before a thunderstorm. It had been impossibly hard to keep the tears from overflowing during her talk with Serena; just feeling the waves of anguish roll off the brunette was enough to almost set Bernie off. But now, with no-one around to protect herself from, Bernie allowed her usually uptight control over her emotions to slip through her fingers. Pure, unadulterated sadness took the reins and she let the waterfall travel down her cheeks. Sobs wracked her toned frame, sending painful shudders through her bones. Small, liquid parcels of misery continued to drop to the floor, having showed no signs of abating. And, right now, Bernie couldn't care less. Any lingering doubts had been quashed by Serena's reaction - Bernie had to go to Afghanistan as soon as possible, and the blonde reckoned the sooner she left, the better for Serena. She couldn't bear to see the anguish in Serena's eyes one more time or put the brunette she cared for so much through any more pain; her heart lurched just thinking about it.

Serena felt numb. She wanted to go after Bernie to say she was sorry, to say she didn't mean it, but her muscles weren't responding - instead, she sat, frozen and with no control over her body, not daring to think how in God's name it was possible that her heart was still beating. A dullness had quenched the once blazing fire in her eyes. From the first moment they'd met, the two women had just clicked. Serena saw a kindred spirit in Bernie - an ally, a friend. As time grew, so did her feelings for the blonde; soon enough, it felt strange when Bernie wasn't in their office; without the blonde by her side Serena had started to feel incomplete. Time spent without the blonde felt like time wasted; Serena had, without even noticing, had a piece of her heart stolen by the blonde. _Am I being selfish? Who cares. She's leaving._ Serena sighed, leaning forward on the chair to rest her head in her hands. She closed her eyes. Her mind refused to stop replaying her final words to Bernie - 'Get out. I never want to see your face again' - she doubted that she'd ever forget the pain and shock in Bernie's eyes upon hearing these words. Serena had become so used to having the army medic in her life she couldn't imagine not seeing her for a whole year; the two women had grown, intertwined, like two ivy vines. Perfectly happy and used to one another. It didn't feel real; Serena was still fully expecting to walk in tomorrow and see Bernie at her desk, the blonde's face lighting up with a beautifully huge grin as soon as Serena walks into the room. Bringing Serena a 'surprise' coffee exactly the way she likes it - black with two sugars and an extra pump of vanilla syrup. Working alongside the blonde in surgery, both brilliant surgeons alone but in perfect harmony when together. _Nothing is going to change. Bernie isn't leaving. She can't._

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 **AN: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I just wanted to say that, even though UK troops began to be pulled out of Afghanistan and return home in 2014 (and Camp Bastion was closed in the same year), I'm working on the premise that a similar, smaller field hospital to Camp Bastion located in Afghanistan is headed by Commander Jones and a small team of medics still working there until finally being called back (perhaps after the proposed year of Bernie's post). Anyways, all I'm saying is it is fiction and I had to change some of the facts to fit my story so please take the specifics with a pinch of salt. I'd love any feedback! Thanks. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I really tried to get Serena's characterisation and dialogue correct, but as always I welcome any tips. Thanks :)**

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Backlighted by the bright morning sunrise, Serena ambled through the Holby Hospital entrance, throwing a half-hearted smile at the security guard. But there was no happiness in her smile, no excitement in her eyes. A splitting headache ran through her brain; last night had involved takeaway curry, Dirty Dancing and copious amounts of Shiraz. Serena was impartial to a glass or two at night as a treat - but last night she had been drinking not for enjoyment, but to forget. To forget what everything that had happened. Every step echoed through her body, reverberating inside her chest and telling her that she was getting closer. Closer to AAU - closer to their office. Whilst waiting for the lift, she looked over to the growing queue at Pulses, full of half-asleep doctors yet to fulfil their caffeine cravings. Serena's heart leaped as her eyes instinctively searched for a curly, blonde head standing out from the mass. No such luck. Her heart sank back down into her chest, undeniable disappointment spreading through her veins.  
Tossing empty greetings at Raf and Fletch, Serena continued walking down the AAU corridor, desperately averting her gaze from their office looming at the end. She buzzed her pass and opened the AAU doors. A cacophony of noise and chaos erupted as soon as she stepped into the ward, but the brunette was completely oblivious to the din. With her heart rate getting faster by the second, Serena opened the office door. As soon as she looked at their office, her heart broke into two and fell onto the ground. An overwhelming drowning sensation took over her body as she gazed despairingly around the room.

There was no mess.

No half eaten apple cores or empty crisp packets. No stacks of thumbed paperwork yet to be completed or lukewarm cups of half-finished coffee. Nothing.  
Shaking legs led Serena around to Bernie's desk, her wooden coat still on and barely keeping the warmth inside her body. The brunette felt cold and numb. Everything had gone - there wasn't a single trace of anyone other than Serena ever being in the office. Sudden desperation taking hold of her body, Serena quickly pulled open the filing cabinet. All Bernie's over-due patient notes had vanished. Anything that pointed to Bernie's presence had completely disappeared.  
A quick, sharp inhalation of the warm air countered this point. Perhaps there was no physical, tangible evidence that Bernie had ever shared their office. But Serena would recognise her individual scent - a luscious mix of rain, smoke and vanilla - anywhere. Tears filled her eyes as Serena greedily took in the heady scent.  
Turning back to the room, the bare, sparkling desk was barely recognisable without its usual blanket of mess and rubbish. Suddenly a flash of white caught her eye. A letter? Serena blindly picked up the lonely letter sitting atop the keyboard. Upon further inspection, she saw it was addressed to her. 'Serena' was scrawled across the front in Bernie's signature messy, cursive handwriting, written in a deep black ink and with an air of hurry surrounding it. _This has to be a mistake. She wouldn't do this do me.  
_

Blood rushing past her ears, Serena instinctively left the office. Ignoring the curious looks and calls of her co-workers, she continued straight out of AAU and soon enough found herself outside Henrik Hanssen's office. Instinct had led her right to his door.  
"Henrik, I need to know where Bernie is. Now." Serena barged into Henrik's office; she knew he liked people to knock but really didn't care. There was only one thing on her mind - finding Bernie.  
"Good morning Ms Campbell. I-"  
"Please Henrik. Where is she?"  
"I regretfully admit that I do not know. I came in this morning to see this letter sitting on my desk; she has given no explanation or forwarding address. She just left." Resignation played in Henrik's voice. He had been expecting Serena to come and interrogate him as soon as he'd discovered the letter.  
"When were you going to tell me?"  
"I-"  
"Oh it doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter. May I see the letter?" Serena questioned, impatience in her voice. Making her way around to Henrik's side of his desk, she leant over his shoulder and quickly began reading the letter. _I regretfully inform you...resign...Afghanistan...sorry. Thank you for everything. Please watch over Ms Campbell.  
_ "She's gone? Just like that? Where did she go?" Tremors of anger rippled through her body - _how on Earth could Bernie act like some kind of bloody guardian angel when she'd left Serena with no explanation? Furthermore, what good was having someone try and protect you from halfway round the world and who was at risk from bombs every day?_ Serena gave a shaky breath before looking back at Henrik, who was wearing an understanding and rather apologetic expression on his long face.  
"I honestly have no idea. She wrote that she's not going to serve her notice period; she's left with immediate effect and, judging by the tone to her letter, she isn't going to change her mind." Henrik sighed. He had grown quite fond of the audacious and daring army medic; to lose her was certainly a big loss to the hospital. Furthermore, her experience lent itself greatly to the foundation of the new Trauma Unit, of which Henrik felt still belonged to her and Serena as a joint enterprise. It made him feel downhearted to think that it'd have to continue without the person who fought so hard for its creation leading the way. Oh well. I'm sure she'll make a great impact in Afghanistan; perhaps the tied down, immobile nature of the NHS was never going to suit her. Drawing his attention back to the brunette before him, Hanssen gave an inward sigh. Although preferring to stay well out gossip's path, the Swedish had inevitably still heard some rumours about the closeness of Bernie and Serena. Having known Serena for a great deal of years, he had grown quite close with her and understood her emotions well; easily reading her tight lips, blurry eyes and creased frown, Hanssen knew she was affected far more than most by Bernie's unexpected departure.  
Choked with a sudden bout of tears, Serena gave a shaky breath and sat down on the edge of Hanssen's desk as her legs refused to hold her up any more. Still clutching her own letter from Bernie, she closed her eyes to try and stop the tears which were now falling like a torrential downpour. Henrik placed a tentative over the brunette's place wrist, but she sharply snatched her arm away and stood up.  
"O-okay. Thankyou." With that, Serena hurried towards the door on unstable, weak legs, devastation coming through her clipped tone. She didn't need his pity.  
"Serena." Henrik called, recognising the distinct loneliness and despair in her teary eyes. But she had already left.

With the blinds closed and the door locked, Serena sat at her desk, leg furiously bobbing up and down under the table. An unnerving silence filled Serena's ears, absent of the deep, rumbling laugh which so often filled their office. Wiping her tear-stained cheek, Serena picked up the curious letter with both hands. She looked down at the cream coloured envelope as if it held the answers to the secrets of the universe - at least for Serena, it certainly felt like it. Maybe this will explain where she is. And how in God's name she could ever do this to me.  
Slipping a tentative finger under the backing, she peeled open the envelope and slowly reached inside for the letter, not failing to notice the unstoppable tremors running through her hands. Serena unfolded the smooth paper and began to read through her tears that were threatening to start falling again.

 _Dear Serena,_

 _I'm writing to tell you I've left. I'm sure that you've figured it out by now - I made sure to clean out the office as to not cause you any more grief or inconvenience._

 _I had to go, even though I really didn't want to. I'm sorry. I had to go to Afghanistan; there's so much I can do. So many more people I can save. Perhaps you'll never understand why I had to go, and I don't expect you to. All I hope is that you can respect my decision._

 _As for my sudden departure, I decided that the sooner I left the better. I was already a burden to you and I couldn't ever bear to cause you anymore pain. I am so grateful for all you have done for me - you're an amazing and beautiful woman. Holby is lucky to have you and I know you'll carry on using your expertise to further the Trauma Unit. Thank you for everything._

 _Please forgive me._

 _Bernie_

Unstoppable teardrops fell from Serena's eyes, the salty liquid seeping into the thick paper and leaving permanent stains alongside Bernie's handwriting. Growing blotches of Serena's tears served as reminders of just how much the contents of the letter had affected her. Right now, Serena wanted to forget all of it. She still held onto the image of seeing Bernie tomorrow morning, walking in with her signature grin and claiming it all a joke. Although her will weakened with every minute, Serena was still determined to hold onto the notion that Bernie would come back for her, rather than accept what had really happened.  
An angry set to her jaw, Serena stood up, not allowing herself any more sadness. She shook her head - _don't be so ridiculous. She isn't coming back!_ Wiping her eyes, she looked down at the letter with an angry, almost hating, stare. In a sudden fit of frustration, Serena crumpled the letter into a small, tight ball and threw it in a nearby filing cabinet; she enjoyed the feeling of her tense muscles fight against the paper. It felt like she was squashing Bernie herself - all the memories, all the emotions she had once felt for the blonde, quashed into an irrelevant and unnoticeable ball. Nothing to remember, nothing to take any notice of. With a resolute determination in her grimace, Serena decided she ought to face up to what had happened; Bernie clearly didn't care about her. It was about time that Serena gave up on ever seeing the army medic again. She had chosen the army over Holby - over Serena - and that was fine. _It's her decision to make - who am I to stop her? Then again, I'm not going to sit about and wait for her to turn up, if she does at all. Why should I remember her, if she clearly couldn't give a toss about me?  
_ As for Bernie's desire to be forgiven, Serena felt torn apart at the seams. Although it felt innately wrong to be angry at Bernie, she couldn't deny the pure fury that swam through her veins. It baffled the surgeon how she could ever be expected to forgive Bernie after all she had done. Perhaps she was being selfish, but Serena doubted how she could ever let Bernie into her heart again. An undeniable pain still resonated through Serena's chest whenever she even thought of the blonde - she had never known such a physical pain from emotion. All at the hands of Bernie.

"Cheers." Serena mumbled to herself, promptly filling her large wine glass to the brim with Shiraz. The brunette really couldn't face going to Albie's after her shift; most, if not all, of Holby now knew about Bernie's resignation. Serena had been receiving condolences all day, of which she had received through gritted teeth - everyone was acting like Bernie was dead. In a way, Serena felt like she was. There were no tangible remnants of Bernie left in their office, no familiar presence on AAU. No-one to have a reliving coffee break with, nor anyone to have a light-hearted talk with before going into surgery. No one to discuss Jason with an understanding tone nor anyone to alleviate the loneliness of hours of paperwork. In many ways, it felt like Serena was grieving the death of the army medic. After taking a few large gulps of the Crimson liquid, Serena leant back on her sofa. The storm in her heart was growing calmer as the alcohol swam through her veins, buzzing in her brain and dulling every thought. Soon enough, after a few more large glasses of her favourite red, the previously painfully sharp memories of Bernie had faded to nothing more than a blur of meaningless images. No sad emotions or memories made their way through the fog settling on Serena's mind - and that's exactly what she had hoped for. As always, Shiraz was the most delicious way to forget.


	3. Chapter 3

6 Months On

It had been 6 months since Serena's life was viciously turned upside down by Bernie's sudden departure. 6 months since her heart had been viciously torn out of her chest, leaving a gaping hole quickly filling with sadness and grief. At first, Serena had experienced an all-consuming loss, until it quickly transformed into withdrawal symptoms. Most days, it had felt like she was previously hooked on the warm feeling Bernie had given her. She soon discovered her addiction to Bernie's presence: her swirling eyes, comforting smile, She had let down her guard with Bernie, allowing her to seep into her body, tattoo memories along her mind and swim in her veins. As a consequence, going 'cold turkey' has evoked painful withdrawal symptoms of which Serena couldn't be never predicted not prepared for.  
For the first few weeks after Bernie had left, Serena had felt like she was delicately treading water, trying to keep her head above the waves and avoid the riptide of emotions from pulling her under. But, after a few too many hangovers and more time to process what had happened, Serena had started to lessen the ferocity of her swimming, although her head still remained above water. Several times, the memories of Bernie brought back rushing emotions that almost drowned her; yet, she still remained above water. As time continued to march on, it became easier to swim over the swell of reminders of Bernie. Easier to stay afloat, until Serena was floating on the surface, not at risk of the dangerous riptides any longer. She felt safe and calm.

Occasionally, something reminded her of the army medic whom she had once felt so strongly for. Blonde curls in the Pulse's queue, the sound of a deep laugh travelling across AAU, or the distinctive scent of Bernie's favourite perfume. But she still survived to see another day.  
In many ways, Serena had become grateful for the mercilessness of time; with no time to grieve the loss of Bernie or consider her own feelings, Serena had thrown herself into her work. She had taken on the sole responsibility of heading the Trauma Unit alongside still managing the AAU. It had been hard - but, of course, that wasn't to say that Serena couldn't do it. They say she's equally at home in the boardroom as she is in the operating theatre, and this assumption had certainly been proven to be correct in the last few months. Serena had to fight tooth and nail to be given Bernie's responsibilities alongside her own, even though she'd handled being Deputy CEO for a considerably longer time than most others. Finally, the most stubborn members of the board had given in - seeing as it would be far more time-consuming and expensive to the NHS to hire a new consultant on AAU, it made sense to allow Serena to take over on her own. So far, she had definitely proved it the right decision to make.  
Bernie's letter sat, long forgotten, in a sad crumpled ball at the bottom of a filing cabinet inside their office. Well, Serena's office. It had been hard to become accustomed to having the office all to herself again; at first, Serena found the constant silence unnerving, but she soon found comfort in it. Long before Bernie had arrived, Serena had shared an office with some other consultants (mostly Ric) - as a result, she wasn't used to being alone in her office day in, day out. That wasn't to say she wasn't soon enjoying the solace that the quiet, peaceful office so often provided, the closed blinds providing privacy from the prying eyes of the AAU.  
If there was one thing she had learnt from Bernie, it would be to protect yourself. All the emotions and caring she had once felt for the blonde had caused her unbearable pain when Bernie had upped and left - soon enough, Serena realised that if she wanted to prevent herself from ever being hurt again, she had to protect herself. Build a huge, impenetrable wall around her heart with only Jason and Eleanor inside. No access for anyone else; and, as a consequence, no chance of ever having her heart broken again. Bernie's departure had already left Serena's heart fragile and weakened; she doubted it could take another hit. Therefore, although she'd had a few one-night stands, she was decidedly staying away from feeling too much for someone she wasn't 100% wasn't going to leave at any given moment. There was no way Serena would let someone come inside the fortress around her heart without very, very good cause. In fact, some part of her doubted whether anyone new would ever come inside ever again. It would be wrong to say Bernie 'ruined' love for Serena - she wasn't that weak and simplistic a woman for one person to forever tarnish a while emotion. But it certainly has put things into perspective, and Serena realised that she really didn't need love or anything close to it. From what she could see, bar Eleanor and Jason, all love brought was tears.

"Serena?"  
Hearing Raf's voice brought Serena out of her thoughts. She grabbed a nearby stack of finished patient notes and began walking out onto the ward, closing the door to her office on the way out.  
"Yes Raf?" She replied, setting down the perilously balanced stack of files and sitting in a chair behind the Nurses Station. Adept at multitasking, the brunette logged into the computer whilst looking at Raf.  
"I've finished Ms. Whitelock's observations and have ordered a chest CT for her. I suspect she may need to be sent up to Darwin." Raf said, a smile in his voice and slightly bloodshot eyes giving away his tiredness after working the night shift. Seeing Serena without the previously constant hunch to her shoulders and weight in her gaze made him feel much better; the Scot had been worried for Serena for the past few months. He knew how close Serena and Bernie had become and for Bernie to leave like she had - well it was just cruel. And had a very profound effect on Serena, who proceeded to work herself into the ground and almost drown her liver in Shiraz. Thankfully, he'd managed to talk some sense into her alongside Henrik and Eleanor - Raf was grateful to see the twinkle slowly returning to her shining eyes. Lifting his bag from the ground and over his shoulder, Raf made to walk out of the ward. "Anyways I'm off now - enjoy the rest of the shift. See you tomorrow!" Waving, Raf sauntered towards the AAU doors, throwing Serena a cheeky grin.

Smiling, Serena made her way towards another patient, Mr. Novak. Having checked his patient notes on her computer, Serena knew he was currently in a lot of discomfort after being recently admitted with bowel problems.  
"Right, Mr. Novak. I'm Ms. Campbell, but you can call me Serena. May I call you Toby? And what seems to be the problem?" Serena asked, a sweet smile on her face. Throughout her years of experience, the doctor had discovered that it (almost) always paid off to be kind to the patients and have an overly nice bedside manner. Many patients were, albeit some people's tough exterior, frightened of hospitals and being nice helped to ease their innate fear.  
"Well Serena. First of all, you cannot call me Toby. Secondly, I don't know what the bloody problem is. That's supposed to be your job." He replied, a stubborn set to his jaw. Clearly the patient was one of the small minority who didn't fall for Serena's good cop routine. Sighing, Serena walked around to the side of his bed and looked at his heart rate monitor, jotting down the essential stats. She really wasn't in the mood for a mouthy patient.  
"Indeed it is, which is why I need to ask a few questions. I'll start by examining your abdomen." She stated, before gloving up and promptly beginning to press down on the different quarters of Mr. Novak's stomach until a guttural, pained moan escaped the patient.  
"Ow!" He shouted, swatting away Serena's hand. "That hurts! Can't you be a bit gentler?"  
"No. When was the last time you experienced a bowel movement?" Serena asked before pursing her lips and quickly striping off her rubber gloves.  
"F-four says ago." Toby mumbled, not making eye contact with Serena - so often, any talk of the inner workings of the body seemed to embarrass and fluster patients.  
"Okay. Can you think of anything you may've eaten which could cause a blockage?" Patience in her tone, Serena reckoned Mr. Novak was suffering from some sort of bowel obstruction, which would explain both the lack of excretion and pain in the lower abdomen. Ultimately (and she'd have to send him for a CT scan to confirm her diagnosis) she'd either send him up to Keller or, if her schedule allowed it, operate on him herself.  
"No. What do you take me for?" He spluttered angrily. "I'm not an idiot for God's sake!"  
"I'm not suggesting you are Mr. Novak. If you think of anything, please tell me. Otherwise a porter will soon take you to have a CT scan." With an exasperated sigh, Serena placed the patient files back in the slot at the foot of his bed, slathered anti-bac on her hands and began to move onto her next patient. But, upon hearing Toby mutter a quiet 'oh', she turned around.  
"What's wrong Mr. Novak?"  
Rather comically, the truth dawned on Toby and his face transformed into a softer, more embarrassed expression. "The coin." He whispered to himself.  
"Coin?" Serena repeated incredulously, rapidly losing patience with this nonsensical conversation.  
"Um..I-I think I ate a coin. A few days ago, my daughter baked a sample of her Christmas pudding-" Serena raised a confused eyebrow. It was July for Heaven's sake. "-what? She likes to be prepared. And she really loves Christmas. Anyways, afterwards she couldn't find the coin that she'd baked inside the pudding. Perhaps I ate it?"  
Shaking her head, a small smile tugged on Serena's lips. She couldn't decide what was more ridiculous: the fact that he'd eaten a Christmas pudding in July, or that he'd swallowed a whole coin without even noticing. As always, the variety of patient stories never failed to surprise and amuse Serena; it felt like a patient came in with something stuck somewhere it shouldn't be every other day! Still smiling, she knew exactly who would find this situation as amusing as her - Bernie. Predictably, the smile promptly fell off her lips as she remembered the blonde army medic. Shaking her head, Serena brought herself back to her previous train of thought.  
"Perhaps you did eat it. I'll book you in for a CT scan to check you did, but it sounds like the most likely explanation for your symptoms."  
"Will I need surgery?"  
"It depends. In usual circumstances, we'd first wait a few days and then try to flush out the object. But, seeing as you've had these symptoms for a considerably longer time, it seems most likely that you will need surgery." Seeing Toby's despondent expression, Serena continued. "I assure you that surgery will be a last resort, and will only be turned to if we have exhausted every other option. Remember that we aren't even sure if you did actually swallow the coin yet, Mr. Davies."  
"Yes, of course. And I'd probably prefer surgery to the nuisance of not having working bowels." He said, humour in his tone and raising a cheeky eyebrow. "Thank you Doctor. And please, call me Toby."  
"Okay Toby. A porter will be with you shortly." Serena gave a terse smile before walking back to the Nurse's Station to book a CT scan.

A triumphant smile playing on her lips, Serena put down the phone. Not only had she managed to sweet talk a previously uncooperative patient, but the call to Radiography had been surprising painless - two distinct victories. As if on cue, her stomach let out a loud grumble; as she looked up at the clock, her body's predictions were dead on - it was finally time for Serena's break.

Basking in the early morning sunlight, Serena sat on a bench in the Linden Memorial Shrubbery Park, gently nursing a strong cup of coffee as if it was a glass of Shiraz. Smiling, she absentmindedly watched turrets of steam dance upwards from the surface of her coffee, disappearing in the cold air before taking another bite of her lemon muffin. The caffeinated liquid leant both its warmth and energy to the doctor; she needed both if she was to get through another hectic Saturday shift on AAU. A familiar sense of lull came over her body before the caffeine finally kick-started her heart, energy racing around her body and making her feel ready to take on the world - or, at least, her ward. But as soon as she began to stand up, she became distracted by a conversation in the distance.

"I heard she was back." Hushed murmurs struggled to travel the distance between Serena and the two conspiring nurses; Serena subtly strained her ears, vying to hear the rest of their conversation. The doctor had always possessed an inquisitive nosiness - perhaps it was what made her so good at her job.  
"Really? How?" The tone of the second nurse intrigued Serena; even the nurse's gossip wasn't usually this salacious.  
"Another IED explosion apparently. The infamous Bernie Wolfe-"  
Serena's mind buzzed to life. Her heart began thumping violently against her chest, taking her breath away. _Bernie? IED?_ Shaking, Serena suddenly felt quite weak and light-headed; she sat back down on the bench, grasping the armrest for support. Quickly turning her head around in the hopes of questioning the gossiping nurses, her face fell as she watched the nurses make their way back to the hospital entrance. _No. It wasn't possible. What are the chances of her being hit by another IED? Of being sent back here?_ Shaking her head, Serena calmed herself back down. Their conversation had been muffled at best; I probably just heard them wrong. Either through truly not trusting her hearing or just refusing to acknowledge the possibility, Serena didn't believe that Bernie was back at Holby. Picking up her coffee, Serena greedily wrapped her elegant hands around its warmth, attempting to slow down her ferociously beating heart. Every emotion she had forgotten about - grief, sadness, blood-boiling anger - threatened to resurface at just the mention of Bernie's name. With her signature poise, Serena managed to prevent her feelings from rising up and overwhelming her - instead she sat, nursing her coffee like it was something stronger, serenely gazing out at the golden sunlight streaming across the hospital and glinting off the glass windows.  
Suddenly, with an insistent buzzing that made her jump out of her skin, Serena's pager went off. Instinctively looking down, she read the small LCD screen on her black pager. It was from Hanssen, which alone was strange considering how little he used his pager, let alone pages Serena. He much preferred to text - nodding, Serena remembered her phone was currently sitting, without any remaining charge, at the bottom of her locker.  
Now even more curious, Serena looked back down to her still vibrating button. Pressing the silence button, she squinted her eyes to read the small display.

08:22AM: COME TO MY OFFICE. HH

With a jolt, Serena stood up. Before she knew what she was doing, the brunette began running towards the entrance to the hospital, grey hoodie flapping behind her and feeling like she had blinkers on. An abandoned half-finished muffin and cup of coffee sat, forgotten and useless, back at her bench; as soon as Serena had read Henrik's page, her mind had been filled with worry. Sprinting up the concrete steps, there was only one thing on Serena's mind - Bernie. Instinct told her that she'd heard the nurses correctly, and Henrik was only going to confirm her worst nightmare.


	4. Chapter 4

**I cant believe how quickly I've updated! (Unlike the rest of my fics..!)**  
 **But I just wanted to say thank you for all the reviews/likes/follows on my last three chapters, I just love everyone who's giving me feedback or asking for more! It's absolutely brilliant! :)**

* * *

Scorching Afghan sun beat down on the army base, glinting off the beads of sweat dripping down Bernie's forehead.  
"Swab please." Bernie murmured to the young theatre nurse. The patient's chest was quickly filling up with sanguine blood; skilfully placing the swab at the site of the bleed, Bernie managed to subdue the bleeding until she could finally stitch up the severed artery.  
The patient currently lying on the table was Lieutenant John Asker. He had been in the middle of a routine peace recon mission along the Upper Gereshk valley when his mission squadron had come under fire. Two men had been pronounced dead at the scene - the other five had sustained injuries of varying severity, with John being one of the luckier members. A bullet had gone straight through his abdomen, narrowly missing his spleen. It had been a through-and-through shot, but unfortunately nicked the sub-clavian artery on its exit route.  
Having instinctively checked the surrounding tissue and organs for any undetected shrapnel or bullet wounds, Bernie nodded; she was satisfied that the Lieutenant would make a full recovery. Motioning to a doctor (whom had been shadowing Bernie for the past week), the blonde left the operating theatre to allow him to close up the patient.  
Stripping off her gloves and apron, Bernie viciously scrubbed her hands with the rough brush and acidic soap. Adrenaline pumped through her veins - saving someone who was close to death, or who perhaps wouldn't have survived without her, evoked an incredible feeling like no other. A small smile lingered on her tight lips; perhaps it was just her stroking her ego, but the doctor loved being the most experienced and respected member of the medical team. She was a little more than 5 months into her year-long tenure, and was loving every day.

Of course, memories of Holby and Serena still played on her mind. When she had first fled the hospital, Bernie had took only the clothes on her back, her uniform and passport before meeting calling Commander Jones to arrange her flight. All her army possessions were flown over in the following weeks. The plane journey was around 7 hours long and every second had been agony. For the whole flight, her heart had relentlessly begged her to go back - return to Serena, return to the warm comfort of the NHS. But she couldn't - by then, it was too late. She'd already made a commitment to the army; more than that, Bernie winced just thinking about going back to Serena, going back to the mess she'd left and looking like a complete fool. Explaining why Henrik had to ignore her terse resignation letter and try to explain the reasons why she'd cleared out all her things from their office without giving Serena nothing more than a useless letter to remember her by.

As soon as her plane touched down in Afghanistan, Major Wolfe was back. In some ways, it was like she had never left; although working in the NHS, away from army rules and expectations, had slightly softened her, Bernie found it easy and almost a relief to fit back into the army schedule. Emotions had no place on the battlefield nor in the operating theatre - as a result, Bernie didn't have any choice but to remain as stoic and guarded as ever. Every stray emotion, every feeling of misery or grief surrounding Serena, was bottled up and never released, often not even being acknowledged. Bernie allowed herself to feel absolutely nothing.

Occasionally she found her mind wondering about what could've been. Had she stayed, would she still be tip-toeing around Serena like she had done for so many months? Or would she finally have found the courage to tell the doctor her true feelings? At the end of the day, it didn't matter and Bernie tried hard not to think about the possibilities had she ignored her call back to the army.

With a private, protective nature in her every move, Bernie quickly attuned back to the army way of life. All the medics were aware that, not only had she already served a decade, but was back as a favour from the Commander. As a result, Bernie commanded a sense of awe from newcomers and respect from long-servers which was almost unprecedented. In some ways, this made Bernie even more determined to impress everyone with her professional, unruffled character. Sometimes it felt like a pantomime that she was playing a villain in; Bernie often caught herself in the mirror and wondered how she had become so different to the softer, more vulnerable woman she once was. Every day she forced herself to maintain the 'good old British reserve' that was expected of her - as a result, the heartache and pain lessened a little with each passing day. It still lingered at the back of Bernie's heart like a darkened thundercloud; but, as much as she didn't want to, it was becoming easier to forget about Serena. Move on.

* * *

Alongside a small team of 4 medics, Bernie was being transported to the front line to treat some injured civilians in a nearby hospital when it happened. As always, it was sudden. Unexpected. A small, seemingly innocent can on the side had been the culprit of so much pain - unbeknownst to the drivers, it was a very primitive IED filled with nails, glass and other horrific and painful implements. Upon explosion, it caused their vehicle to roll several times before coming to a crashing halt. The driver had been pronounced dead at the scene and Bernie was critically injured - the rest of the medics, whom had been sitting in the back of the car (which was far more protected and enclosed by a stronger material than the windshield glass), escaped relatively unscathed with a few broken ribs and fractured legs.  
Unfortunately, history has a terrible habit of repeating itself. Bernie woke up, face pressed against the dusty, dry ground, with a splitting pain running down the length of her spine and a numbness quickly spreading through her right arm. Naturally, she tried to get a better look at her arm, but her spine had other ideas and let out a hugely painful protest at even the slightest hint of movement.  
"Fuck." Bernie muttered, sounding more inconvenienced than angry or afraid. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, the majority of her medical team arrived and she was air-lifted to the nearest permanent hospital. After several doses of morphine pumped intravenously into her bloodstream, Bernie began to feel less and less lucid, until she finally lost consciousness. The peace and tranquillity that had so far eluded her reach came as something of a relief.

Opening her eyes, Bernie could barely see anything; her vision was very blurry and, despite straining, all she could see were shapeless silhouettes moving like ghosts in front of her. But her ears were working just fine and, unbeknownst to the two doctors having a conversation at the foot of her hospital bed, could easily make out every noise.  
"We have to. We simply have no other choice."  
"Just let me try. I've seen it in the textbooks, I know I can do-"  
"No. There is no way I will let you 'try your best' at the possible expense of Major Wolfe's life." Bernie could practically hear the doctor shaking his head. A small smile crept onto Bernie's face - in the army, everyone was valued and equal. As always, Bernie relished the respect and honour she'd acclaimed through her years of service.  
"Okay Sir. Shall I get you the phone...?"  
"Yes please. I need to call Guy Self - he's the only person I know who has enough experience in this operation to be trusted. Unfortunate for Maj. Wolfe, she'll be flying back to the UK, right back to where she came from." Bernie winced. _Guy is almost certainly at Holby.  
_ "Shame to lose such an asset Sir."  
"Indeed. But, as you already know, it is the very nature of the job."

Bernie closed her heavy eyelids, not wanting to hear anymore. Her finely attuned hearing hadn't failed her - she easily recognised the voices of Dr. Loughborough and Dr. Jameson (of whom had lost a leg at the hands of a nasty bout gangrene) through the din of the ward. Heart sinking impossibly deep into her chest, Bernie wanted the ground to swallow her up. In simple words, she wanted to disappear. There was no possible silver lining to returning to Wyvern. Of course, seeing Serena would make her momentarily happy. But, upon seeing the sadness, fury and pain in those familiar hazel eyes, all of which was her fault, Bernie knew she'd feel nothing except anguish. Looking down as much as her spine allowed, Bernie noted the odd way her arm was bent, and the various tubes and needles stuck into her body. Even before seeing the rest of her team Bernie had diagnosed herself (correctly) with a compound fracture in her radius and a T4 fracture. Every little jolt and movement, even with the maximum legal dose of pain killers, was nothing short of excruciating - even then, Bernie knew it'd be nothing close to the pain she'd feel upon seeing Serena again. Seeing all she had deserted - Raf, Fletch, Morven, Hanssen and every other friend, every other patient, she'd left behind without a moment's notice - would be so painful. Cowardice had snuck its evil way into Bernie's body; she could feel it gnawing away at her heart, forcing her to acknowledge the weak, disloyal woman she'd become. Her loyalties had always lain with the army - yet, by going back to Afghanistan, it felt she was burning bridges instead of building them. Perhaps her loyalty to the army had once meant something, but now all Bernie felt was shame when she thought about how she'd left Holby. _Left Serena._

 _Oh well. No time like the present to face my demons._ Haziness overwhelmed Bernie once again - before she knew it, the pain medication began to blur her vision even more, numb her residing pain and mix her thoughts into an indecipherable cocktail until she couldn't keep conscious any longer.

* * *

Gasping, Bernie opened her eyes. Shining layers of perspiration slicked her skin, reacting not to the temperature but the vivid recollection she'd just experienced. It was exactly the same memory as her mind had replayed three times in the past hour. Every time she closed her eyes, the explosion and everything that came with it came rushing back to her, like a merciless and unwavering river.  
A faint blush lingering on her cheeks, Bernie sat up. A brief grimace flitted across her face, before returning to its naturally stoic and uninterpretable expression. Looking at the clock, Bernie noted the time - 08:21AM. The army medic had been flown over on a private express plane and, upon arrival at Holby City Hospital, had been rushed straight into Neurosurgery. Guy Self had managed to repair the IED's damage to Bernie's spine and, with his trademark self-satisfaction, had closed Bernie up in record time. Orthopaedics had been next; after assessing the damage to her right radius, the doctors had decided it was a clean compound break. After suturing the area of skin that had been punctured by the fracture, they plastered her right lower arm, leaving her feeling like a heavy-handed baboon who wasn't allowed to move her spine.  
Since then, Bernie had welcomed quite a few visitors - as always, gossip moved fast in Holby. A huge, over-elaborate chocolate hamper sat atop Bernie's bedside table, draped with beautiful ribbons and a heart-warming card - a gift from the Darwin ward (and clearly too thoughtful to be Jac's doing). Lounging across the foot of her bed was a ornate, beautifully decorated robe which looked more like a piece of Japanese art than clothing. This was Keller's amusing and kind gift to the reviving army medic, and she knew that only Dom would be thoughtful (and fashionable) enough to choose such a gift; smiling, Bernie imagined the thought of Sacha - or, God forbid, Ric - trying to pick out a robe. Other than that, most people had played it safe with chocolates. Speaking of which, a small mountain of various chocolate boxes wobbled precariously on the chair, having been sent by not only members of staff but friends, discharged comrades, family and even one by a former patient. Seeing as there were no flowers allowed on the ward, most people chose chocolate as their gift (which pleased Bernie's insatiable sweet tooth considerably). Counteracting the abundance of chocolate was a small, rather inoffensive gift sitting next to the TV remote. Hanssen, in his trademark caring fashion, had brought Bernie a silver hipflask. The cynic in her couldn't help but wonder if it was all some kind of bribe - a reference to all the luxuries and securities she would've had if only she had chosen to turn down Commander Jones's offer. Shaking her head, Bernie contradicted herself - not everyone has a constant motive in their mind. Some, such as Hanssen, do things out of the kindness of their heart. A sentiment I seem to have forgotten as of late.  
Sweeping her gaze across the room, Bernie smiled at all the little 'get well soon' cards eagerly staring up at her, willing her to recover. It made Bernie's heart beat quicker to know that, despite having fled like a mouse in a cattery, people in the hospital were kind and forgiving enough to still care about Bernie. _Even when I didn't seem to care about them at all. If only I had handled it better.  
_ Since then, Bernie had received a few visitors although most had been scared away by Guy Self - apparently he was good for something. Through all his misgivings, Bernie still liked him - she recognised the drive and motivation he had, and rather appreciated his manipulative skills. The man did nothing half-heartedly not without an ardent passion. In the cosy world of Holby (in comparison to the real world, perhaps even on the battlefield), Bernie had found it easy to forget that not everyone was a selfless, completely kind individual. Guy did things mainly for his own passion and sense of achievement; Bernie admired that. Occasionally, he did things for others such as Zosia, but the man was almost solely motivated by self-gain and was prepared to do anything to get what he wanted. Bernie could see no fault to Guy's ruthless determination. She was a firm believer that, if you didn't help yourself, then no-one else was going to. Perhaps it was a cynical way of looking at things, but Bernie was a wary and self-motivated person by her very nature.

Looking through the small slats of the aqua blinds out onto Wyvern, Bernie's gaze inevitably caught sight of a very familiar brunette surgeon walking across the empty car park. Bernie's breath hitched upon seeing Serena; even though a lot of time had passed, just one look at the doctor released a flood of misery and anger within the army medic's chest. It felt strange to see Serena in the flesh (instead of one of her hazy, morphine-induced dreams that had become so common). Anger at herself, for leaving the way she did. Misery at knowing that Serena would either be too kind or too foolish (or perhaps both) if she ever came to see Bernie. Closing her eyes, Bernie prayed that Serena didn't know about her arrival, nor that she ever found out. But, knowing the notorious gossipers throughout the hospital, Bernie knew this was a very unlikely and distinct wish. A shaky sigh escaped Bernie's throat; of all the hospitals and doctors in the world, how comes the very place she was sent to contained so many memories? And the one person she had vowed to never hurt again? Even from several hundred feet away, Serena still had the same heart-wrenching, devastatingly strong impact on the blonde as she always had. Without realising, Serena's effect on her emotions was close to merciless.

As a result, Bernie was very surprised and almost breathless upon seeing her, bottle of wine in tow, hovering outside the private room.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: See bottom of chapter!**

* * *

"Serena?" Bernie breathed, squinting her eyes against the harsh morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Seeing the doctor after what had felt like a lifetime made Bernie feel light-headed. It had been a hell of a journey to suppress the feelings once burning in her chest upon the mention of Serena's name; every ounce of Bernie's determination and willpower came crashing down like a lead balloon upon seeing Serena once again.  
"Ms Wolfe." Serena replied, her voice tight lipped and barely audible. Her hazel irises swam with a cocktail of indecipherable emotions - anger? fury? or plain melancholy? - upon looking down at the army medic. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall _. I will not let her see what leaving did to me. She doesn't deserve my tears._ Serena told herself, invested only half-heartedly in her self-affirmations.

After Henrik had told her about Bernie, Serena had debated for several days whether to visit the army medic. On one hand, Serena wanted to avoid dragging up old feelings. On the other hand, she knew deep down that she couldn't let the opportunity of seeing Bernie slip through her fingers. To be so close to the blonde - Serena couldn't bear it. And so she'd decided that today would be the day. As soon as she'd got into work, Serena forced herself to see Bernie. When she had been walking up the stairs to Darwin, it had felt like she was running an infinite marathon; a list of insults, truths and accusations filled Serena's mind, all vying to be first out of her mouth when she finally laid her eyes on the woman who had broken her heart. Unfortunately, as soon as she saw Bernie, curled up in her hospital bed, every insult flew out of Serena's mind. All she could think about was how pale Bernie looked; even after having been under the Afghan sun for 6 months, the army medic looked more colourless and drained than ever. In fact, Bernie looked like nothing more than a thin, frail skeleton covered in tubes and an oversize plaster threatening to swallow her whole. A jumble of bones under pale, almost translucent skin. Muscles once embellishing her arms were long gone. Dark circles under her eyes hinted at a constant fatigue; the laughter lines that had once lined her mouth seemed to have all but disappeared. Serena saw how broken and run-down Bernie was and she empathised completely.  
When she had heard Bernie was back, Serena couldn't help but picture a smug, smiling army medic with more medals and a bigger sense of goodwill than ever before. Someone she could rightfully hate. Instead, Serena found an empty woman, left battered and bruised after returning to the army that she spoke so highly of.  
Upon seeing this, Serena's cold glare softened slightly. Her pursed lips relaxed a little bit. Perhaps Bernie was almost as affected as me.  
"I can't believe-" Bernie stuttered, still unable to raise her voice above a hoarse whisper. Her words fizzled out to nothing short of silence. Tension pressed down on her chest like an unmovable dumbbell, suffocating her. Noticing the tremors running through her pale hands, Bernie balled them into tight fists, clasping her crisp bed sheet.  
"For you." Serena moved forward to offer Bernie the bottle of Shiraz, helpfully filling the awkward silence lingering between them. She knew it was the blonde's favourite variety - even after all this time, she couldn't ever forget all of Bernie's little idiosyncrasies: how she liked her coffee, the time she woke up, her penchant for sunrises. They were all permanently tattooed across Serena's mind. It felt strange talking to Bernie like they were strangers - in some ways, they were. Once upon a time, the two had been thick as thieves, always willing to share their most intimate thoughts and feelings with each other. But there was a palpable barrier between them now, taller than the Berlin Wall.  
"Tha-" Just as Bernie reached out her still shaking hand for the wine, Serena quickly placed it on the table before stepping back; the doctor was clearly averse to being anywhere near Bernie.  
"Okay. Have to go." With this, Serena made to leave the room. It was so hard and exhausting to keep up the reserved facade and keep control over her quavering voice; she had to get out before Bernie saw through her. Saw that all her heart wanted to do, all her heart had pleaded her to do ever since seeing Bernie again, was curl up in a ball against the blonde and never move again _. Never let her leave again._

 _No. She broke my heart. And she'll do it for a second time._

"No!" Bernie exclaimed, her voice shaky. The army medic couldn't bear Serena leaving like this - Bernie wanted to hear more her voice. The sight of Serena leaving had broken Bernie's speechless silence. "No. Wait. Please. How's the Trauma Unit? How's Jason? How are you?" Bernie winced. _Stupid question I suppose.  
_ "How am I?" Serena spat, suddenly turning on her heel to look down at Bernie, anger blazing in her eyes and a dangerous venom seeping into her tone. In that moment, Bernie had never seen something as upsetting as the cold, icy wall that had descended around Serena's hazel irises. "Don't pretend you care." She growled, a flush of fury colouring her cheeks. A small register of shock flit across Bernie's face; _I shouldn't be surprised. What did I expect? For her to welcome me with open arms?  
_ "Serena-"  
"I have to go." Serena repeated.

With these final words, the brunette strode out of the room, running as soon as she was out of Bernie's eyesight. She had to get away. Back to the safety of her office, where she was protected from everyone's pitying glances by the impenetrable walls. The surgeon couldn't bear the pleading in Bernie's tone - or perhaps she just couldn't take seeing Bernie and knowing her heart would be wrenched out upon her departure, just like it was the first time. 

A tear rolled down Bernie's sullen cheek, dripping off her chin. She didn't bother to wipe it away.

"I won't give up. Let me make it right." She whispered, her hearse voice harsh against the silence. Grim determination in her tone, Bernie knew she wasn't leaving Holby until she had the chance to explain herself to Serena.

* * *

 **Hello! Hope you're enjoying so far, I've got another chapter to post. It's a bit angsty at the moment but things will get better...I promise :)**


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